Page 13 of Half-Hearted
“No.” I didn’t even know what she’d asked. Didn’t need to. “And we’re going to sleep.Now.”
She made more noises. Protesting ones that were accompanied by a disapproving frown.
“You’ve lost talking privileges until the alcohol is out of your system,” I decided. “And then maybe for a few decades after that.”
The noises were louder this time, heated vibrations against my skin.
“It’s what you get.”
Alexis sighed dramatically into my hand but then seemed to relax and concede. Finally.
She scooched closer, cuddling right up against my chest. I shouldn’t have allowed it, shouldn’t have let my hand drop from her mouth just so I could wrap my arms around her, shouldn’t have pulled her closer.
I did, but I really,reallyshouldn’t have.
“You’re going to be the absolute end of me,” I whispered into her hair. I may or may not have immediately started playing with it.
“Good.” She nuzzled my chest. Evil little thing. “Then at least we’ll be even.”
4
Alexis
I woke up inside a furnace.
Or at least that’s what I thought was happening in the mild state of hungover and sleepy delirium I was in when consciousness first hit. I thought I was suffocating inside an overactive, noisy furnace, doomed to sweat my way to dehydration and death.
But at least it smelled really good in here. All familiar and warm. Like smoked sandalwood and soap and… and…
Joel.
My eyes snapped open.
And then it all hit me at once. The memories. The headache. The nausea. Thedopamine.
I wasn’t suffocating inside a stupid, useless furnace. I was suffocating in Joel’s generously muscled arms, my nose practically pressed to his massive chest. And that low rumbling? That was Joel, too. He wassnoring!
The dopamine was immediately joined by a rush of serotonin and oxytocin. Probably. Why else would I be feeling so high and happy all of a sudden, even though my head was pounding and my insides were swirling? I craned my neck, unable to keep the goofy grin off my face at the sight of him.
He was sound asleep, head tilted down on the pillow, arm and leg hooked over my body, crushing me under their impressive weight. He was way too heavy, produced way too much heat, and snored way too loudly. I was in literal heaven.
I reached up and brushed the tips of my fingers across his cheekbone, down his jaw, over his lips and the little scar that ran down his chin. He was so beautiful. I’d always thought so, even when we were kids. I even rememberedwhenI’d realized how attractive he was, down to the exact pair of dark checkered socks he was wearing that day.
It happened in the fall, almost exactly seventeen years ago. My parents were having a large dinner party with Very Important Guests that night, so Marta had sent us to play outside for the day. As our head private chef, she needed to get the kitchen organized, finalize the menu, debrief the staff, and “yada yada yada, boring adult stuff you won’t want to be here for. Ethan and Joel, you’re in charge of Alexis. Play nice, and make sure you actuallyinclude herin your games this time.”
So we’d walked down to the lake. And I’d been left out again.
But, in Ethan’s defense, not many eleven-year-old boys were keen on including their five-year-old sisters in their epic stick sword fights. I just didn’t necessarily understand that at the time and threatened to march right back up to the house and tell Marta that they wouldn’t let me play with them. So, a compromise was reached. If I sat down quietly and watched, then Ethan would push me on the swing for a full fourteen (negotiated up from eight) minutes once they were done, after which he’d take me forbothice cream (two scoops, dipped)andhot chocolate (with whipped cream andextra marshmallows).
Obviously, I’d agreed… and then regretted it almost immediately.
It took the boys ten billion hours just to find their perfect weapons, because every time one of them discovered a stick they deemed worthy of battle, the other one found a bigger, better stick deemedmoreworthy of battle, and then we were all the way back to square one again.
I watched them from my usual spot underneath the big red oak tree and it. Was.So. Boring. My whole brain had gone numb by the third or fourth weapon-comparison round, and they hadn’t even started the stupid fight yet.
Once they were bothfinallysatisfied with the size, girth, and durability of their sticks, Joel had the brilliant idea of turning them into lightsabers because they’re “so much cooler and deadlier than normal swords.”
SothenI watched them gather a bunch of leaves (red for Joel, orange for Ethan) and try to figure out how to make them stick to their sticks. And after what felt like hoursof positively enthralling tactical deliberation, Ethan suggested they use my shoelaces to tie the leaves around their weapons andvoilà. It worked. It was sloppy, but it worked and was “better than nothing,” according to the both of them.
